


Merciless

by sciencefictioness



Series: Legacy [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BDSM, Bondage, Come Eating, Dom Mercy, Edging, F/M, Foot Fetish, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, Light Angst, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Poly Genji, Polyamory, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Genji, i cannot believe, implied McReyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13054773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: Something complicated was going on behind Genji’s eyes, but it was nothing so complicated that Gabriel didn’t think he could unravel it, given enough time.Given less time if Genji was on his knees, tied up and begging, but only as a last resort.Genji insisted that wasn’t playing fair, and Gabriel was inclined to agree, but he’d do what he had to in order to untie the knots Genji bound himself in sometimes.  They stared at each other, neither of them backing down, Genji taking on that imperious expression he donned when he wasn’t ready to give an inch.When he’d bleed before he’d bend.When he’d break, and let Gabriel cut himself on the pieces left behind.





	1. Without

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of the Legacy verse, set before the events of Legacy, but after Hanzo has left the clan. You don't have to have read Legacy or its side pieces for this to make sense, but it will help. The first chapter focuses on genreaper76, while the second is primarily gency. 
> 
> There are brief mentions of mcreyes here. Legacy itself will be strictly mchanzo, start to finish, but I have some pretty elaborate multiship type plans for the verse as a whole after the main piece is complete. If you're a strict monoshipper where the mchanzo's are concerned, I might advise refraining from reading these side stories, as things will start to get a bit tangled as far as pairings are concerned. Anyway.

Watching Genji flirt was entertaining, even if it wasn’t anything unusual.  

  


Casual seduction was Genji’s default setting, and after several years together, Gabriel wasn’t entirely sure he knew how to turn it off.  It was a part of who he was, being alluring without  trying, hitting on anything pretty that gravitated into his orbit.  Gabriel and Jack just smiled, affection welling up in them at the sight of him smirking and sweet talking men at a bar, or on the dance floor, or in their favorite coffee shop.  Nothing ever really came of it, not that anyone would have minded if it did.  

  


Genji loved he and Jack fiercely, and it had been a long time since Gabriel had felt legitimately bothered by the attention any of his lovers had lavished on another person.  Ages ago, long before he’d met Genji at Overwatch.

  


Lonely, and broken, so desperate to be hurt that he hurt them in turn.  

  


Watching him bat his eyelashes and lean in close to let his words flit low over someone’s skin was nothing new.

  


Watching him try to hide how flustered he was as pretty blonde tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear, her thumb brushing gently over his flushed cheeks, was a much rarer occurrence.  

  


It had happened exactly never outside of Genji’s established partners, until very recently, when Angela caught his attention during one of Overwatch’s demonstrations.  

  


Genji blushing and stuttering over his words and looking utterly besotted was something reserved for Jackson, or Zenyatta, or Gabriel himself.  Seeing him thrown off his game was  satisfying in ways Gabriel couldn’t put into words.  He pulled himself together admirably, his faltering only obvious because Gabe knew Genji so well now, was familiar with all of his subtle tells, body language giving him away.  

  


Gabriel grinned as Angela ran her fingers through his hair one last time before turning and walking off, headed towards one of the backstage prep rooms to get ready for her demonstration.  Something about femdom, though he wasn’t sure what that entailed, specifically.  Gabriel had been paying more attention to the way Jack’s eyes glinted in interest than what Ana had actually said when she was announcing the demos for the evening.

  


Women weren’t really Gabe’s thing, sexually speaking, but it was amusing to watch Jack fall all over himself for a pretty girl in heels who might boss him around.

  


More amusing still when it was Genji, their resident unaffected playboy, stumbling over a barstool in his distracted state and nearly landing in a heap on the floor.  Genji recovered quickly and returned to Jack and Gabe, steps light, throwing a long look over his shoulder at the door Angela had vanished behind.

  


“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you gone like this over someone,” Gabriel said as Genji settled into Jack’s lap, tossing his legs over Gabe’s thighs.  Genji scoffed and reached for Gabriel’s drink, taking a generous swig before answering.

  


“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I flirt with everyone,” he said dismissively, flopping back into Jack, the expression on his face something between guilt and evasion.

  


Jack and Gabriel shared a look, brows raised, before Jack began toying with Genji’s hair.

  


“Mmm, but you don’t really mean it most of the time.  You’ve been trailing after Angela starry eyed for months now,” Jack said, patient and indulgent.

  


“It would be cute if it wasn’t so annoying watching you pine.  Just ask her to do a scene with you,” Gabe added, snatching his glass deftly out of Genji’s hands to down the remaining liquid.  Genji squawked and tried to get it back, only giving up when the last of the whiskey was gone.  He crossed his arms, kicking halfheartedly at Gabriel’s thigh with a huff.

  


“I can’t,” Genji said, looking everywhere but the two of them.

  


“Why not?” Jack asked, and Genji sighed.

  


“She says I seem like an unruly sub,” Genji replied coolly.  Jack frowned, and Gabriel shrugged one shoulder.

  


“You  _ are  _ an unruly sub,” Gabriel said, and Genji scowled at him as Jack spoke up. 

  


“You’re unruly for  _ us.   _ You’re not unruly by nature, I’ve seen the way you behave for Zenyatta.  And I’ve also seen some of the partners she does scenes with sometimes.  Have you  _ met  _ Olivia?  It hardly matters if you’re not exactly meek and obedient.”  Jack paused, frowning more deeply.  “Did she say she wouldn’t scene with you?”

  


Genji looked sullen, embarrassed almost.

  


“No.  I didn’t ask, I…”  Genji slid out of Jack’s lap to sit between them instead.  “It doesn’t matter, it’s fine.  I’m going to get another drink,” he said, moving to stand.  Gabriel tugged him back down by the hem of his shirt, and Genji let him, collapsing into him with a whine.  “What?” 

  


It came out petulant, and Gabriel lifted his chin with his fingertips, eyes narrowed.

  


“It’s not fine, evidently.  We don’t have to talk about this here, but we do have to talk about it sometime.”

  


Something complicated was going on behind Genji’s eyes, but it was nothing so complicated that Gabriel didn’t think he could unravel it, given enough time.

  


Given less time if Genji was on his knees, tied up and begging, but only as a last resort.

  


Genji insisted that wasn’t playing fair, and Gabriel was inclined to agree, but he’d do what he had to in order to untie the knots Genji bound himself in sometimes.  They stared at each other, neither of them backing down, Genji taking on that imperious expression he donned when he wasn’t ready to give an inch.

  


When he’d bleed before he’d bend.

  


When he’d break, and let Gabriel cut himself on the pieces left behind.

  


“Gabi,” Jack said, and Gabriel let his hand fall from Genji’s face at the soft admonishment in his tone.  Some of the fight went out of Genji then, and he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of Gabriel’s mouth, gentle and lingering.

  


“Later, okay?  I promise.”

  


Genji headed out of the VIP area and into the outer bar to fetch another drink, and Gabriel let him go, Jack’s fingers tangling with his own, thumb tracing over his knuckles.

  


“Impatient,” Jack said, and he wasn’t wrong, but Gabriel had gotten better at waiting, had learned firsthand what happened when he made rash decisions.

  


Had lost someone precious he wasn’t sure he’d ever get back.  It still stung, the hollow place in Gabriel’s chest, the empty spot buried behind his lungs.  Ached, and threatened to swallow him, though it had been some time since he let himself wallow in the feeling.

  


So Gabriel let Genji go, and sighed, and waited for later.

  


Later came after a few weeks of Genji wearing his false enthusiasm like armor, that smile Gabriel had learned to hate, too forced to be anything but dishonest.  Not a lie, exactly, but not far from it.

  


A mask he’d worn to hide behind, survival instincts born of growing up in a dangerous place, with dangerous people.

  


Later came after a scene, as it often did, Genji unbound but wearing the ghost of ropes on his skin, red imprints circling his wrists and his ankles and his forearms.  Sweating all over, cheeks flushed pink, hair wild as he caught his breath in Gabriel’s arms and Jack mouthed at the bruises on Genji’s neck.  Not lustful, but reverent, and Genji’s fingers sank into his hair, scratching at the longer strands.

  


Genji had cried, which wasn’t unheard of, but tended to happen more often with Zenyatta than with Jack and Gabriel.  It hadn’t been a particularly demanding scene, but Genji had been on edge for days before, and it had been frighteningly beautiful to watch him fall to pieces and let go of it all.  Now he lay pliant against Gabriel’s chest, Jack murmuring something low that Gabe couldn’t quite hear into the skin of Genji’s throat.  He didn’t need to catch the words to know it was praise.  The way Genji melted further into him was evidence enough, and Jack kept nuzzling against him, a leg thrown over Gabriel’s calf, hands stroking up and down Genji’s body.

  


“I love you,” Genji said, and Jack paused in his ministrations, eyeing Genji cautiously.  Neither Jack nor Gabriel asked for clarification, because it wasn’t really necessary.

  


Genji loved them both.

  


“Mmmm.  We love you too, sweetheart,” Jack said.  Gabriel said nothing, but pressed a kiss into Genji’s hair, a wordless agreement.

  


“It should be enough,” he added, voice raw, ready to crack.  “Jack has Hana, and you have-”

  


Gabriel tensed at Genji’s hesitation, like someone braced for a blow, and Jack’s lips pressed at his temple in silent apology.

  


_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry,  _ when there was nothing to be sorry for, and it made him feel like crawling out of his skin.  He took a deep breath, and Genji’s hand was in his hair, petting, soothing.

  


“You have us, and the torch you’re carrying.  I have both of you, and Zenyatta.  It should be enough.  It feels selfish to want anything more, and I spent so much of my life that way.  Wanting too much, hurting people in the process. I thought I was getting better, but I’m not, I haven’t, I-”

  


_“Genji,”_ Gabriel says, cutting Genji off, his voice too close to breaking for Gabe’s liking, “stop.  Tell me you know better than this bullshit by now.” It sounded harsher than he would have liked, rougher, almost accusing.

  


Genji shrugged helplessly, and turned into Gabriel’s chest, words shaky as they came out against his shoulder.

  


“I’m sorry.”

  


Jack didn’t try to extricate Genji, but laid on him instead, crushing him between the two of them.

  


“You wanting someone else doesn’t mean you love us less.  Whether you want to fuck them or date them or scene with them, it doesn’t matter.  You being with another person doesn’t take you away from us.  We’ve been through this already, back when we first got together.  We didn’t make you choose between the two of us and Zenyatta, and... Well, we certainly aren’t going to mind if you want to scene with someone.  Especially someone like  _ Angela.” _

  


Angela was a doctor, and theoretically better equipped to dom Genji than they themselves were, physically speaking, in the event something untoward happened during a scene.  Angela was experienced, and kind hearted, and safe.  She wasn’t a sadist, or at least not much of one.  If her sub wasn’t enjoying themselves, she wasn’t enjoying herself, and Gabriel trusted her to take good care of Genji.  

  


Genji took a shaky breath, burrowing deeper into Gabriel’s chest, speaking so quietly he could barely hear.

  


“What if she doesn’t want me?”  

  


It was vulnerable, in a way that Genji rarely allowed, layers of uncertainty flowing through the words to lay him bare.  Gabriel was at a loss for what to say, because nothing felt like enough.

  


Genji was  _ perfect,  _ even with all his flaws, and if someone couldn’t see that they didn’t deserve to put their hands on him.

  


Jack saved him, and not for the first time, his cheek laid flat between Genji’s shoulders, arms wrapped around his hips to hold him tight.

  


“How could she not?  You’re perfect, baby.”

  


Genji wasn’t, but he  _ was,  _ and Gabriel knew Angela well.  Knew she’d look at Genji, and see all the things Gabriel saw.  Genji was flirtatious, and witty, and sarcastic, and  _ beautiful. _

  


And underneath it all, down past the facade he wore like a second skin, Genji was alive like no one Gabriel had ever met.

  


Or like someone he'd met, and loved, then let slip through his fingers. 

  


Genji started crying again, emotions so close to the surface after their scene that Gabriel could almost taste them in the air, filling up the room like smoke.

 

Then he ran out of steam, and the tension vanished like stormclouds, leaving everything new in its wake.    


	2. Mercy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I accidentally wrote some mild foot kink, not too sure how that happened but uhhh... here you go. Gency with, you guessed it, mentions of genreaper76.

It was strange being on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back, without some sort of collar.  

 

The one Genji wore most often was black with a wide stripe of green running through it, the leather soft with use, hugging the curves of his neck like a second skin.  All Genji had to do was look at it, and warmth suffused him, a Pavlovian response ingrained in him so deep it would be impossible to erase.

 

Gabriel always collared him for their scenes, never leaving the task to Jack, even when it might be easier.  He seemed to like the act itself, wrapping the collar slowly around Genji’s throat, working the buckle carefully.  It wasn’t something reserved solely for when Genji was subbing.  Sometimes Gabriel came home from work, and kissed Genji hard, slipping the collar on him and pulling back to look at it.  Pleased and possessive, his finger tugging on the ring at the center, ownership written in his gaze.

 

Not  _ I control you,  _ but  _ I will take care of you. _

 

_ Mine, mine, mine,  _ and Genji liked it, the way it felt on his throat.

 

The way it made him feel loved without any words being spoken.

 

The collar he wore for Zenyatta wasn’t really a collar at all, but a thin leather cord with a tiny silver bell hanging from it, barely long enough to clasp around his neck.  Subtle.  Delicate, and beautiful, but also insidious.

 

Zenyatta liked to tell Genji to be quiet, and the soft tinkling of the bell gave away his every twist and shudder and gasp.  It was fitting, he supposed.

 

Genji never could keep anything from Zenyatta.

 

He hadn’t expected to wear one for Angela, not so soon, but he also hadn’t anticipated how odd it would feel not to have one.  Hadn’t realized how much comfort he drew from them until he was left without one, how much he’d taken for granted to security they gave him.

 

The reassurance of belonging.

 

Angela could sense his unease now, brief and transitory though it was, passing quickly when Genji refocused on her.  She reached down and cupped his cheek, the look in her eyes heated yet calculating.  Not Angela anymore, not with Genji kneeling in front of her, breathless with anticipation.  Not mistress, either.

 

Mercy.

 

Just Mercy.

 

It was three weeks after his talk with Jack and Gabe, and about three shots of vodka, before Genji worked up the courage to approach Angela in earnest.  He couldn’t help but remember when he’d first met Gabriel at Overwatch, and Jack shortly afterwards, both of them cutting through his bullshit so fast it made his head spin.  Zenyatta had sent him to the club in hopes of channelling his more destructive proclivities into something less toxic.

 

Something that didn’t keep hurting him long after he’d gotten up off his knees.

 

Something that didn’t stain him inside, and leave him more broken than when he’d started.

 

He’d sidled up to Gabriel that first night, not self aware enough to realize what a mess he’d made of himself.  Hazy with sake, blood caked around his nose from one too many lines of coke, bruises peeking out of his clothes.  Fingerprints in blue and black still lingering on his hip bones and biceps where someone had held on too tight, yet not tight enough to soothe the itch inside him.  Gabriel had frowned at him, reaching to lift Genji’s chin with his first two fingers, brows furrowed as he looked him over.

 

_ ‘Someone’s not taking good care of you,’  _ and Genji had thrown his head back and laughed.

 

_ ‘Me, mostly.  Want to show me how you’d take care of me instead?  You can teach me, I learn fast.’ _

 

Gabriel let his fingertips ease over Genji’s jaw, still frowning, staring straight through him.

 

Looking at something Genji hadn’t been sure he wanted anyone to see.  Something he’d worked hard to hide, laid bare all at once under Gabriel’s gaze, raw and open and unfiltered.

 

_ ‘You’re not ready for the things I’d do to you, pretty boy,’  _ and god, he’d been right, even if it took Genji an eternity to realize it.

 

Years later, and Genji was  _ Gabe’s  _ pretty boy now.  He was especially good at asking for things nicely, in his sweetest voice, eyes wide and teeth worrying his bottom lip.  It was predictable, probably, but it usually worked on Gabriel and Jack, and it didn’t fail him with Angela, either.

 

_ ‘Do a scene with me,’  _ he’d said, earnest and serious, watching Angela carefully.  She’d smiled, and touched his face, looking pleased when Genji leaned into the contact.

 

_ ‘I thought you’d never ask.’ _

 

Now Genji was in one of Overwatch’s private rooms, wrists in leather cuffs behind his back,  naked on the floor between Mercy’s feet.  There was also a set of cuffs wrapped around his thighs just above the knee, a metal spreader bar between them, holding them wide enough that Genji’s muscles wanted to shake under the strain.  It ran counter to his instincts, the sub in him desperate to sit seiza for her, to kneel properly. 

 

_ Sit pretty,  _ as Gabe always said, and Genji had to wonder if she was doing it on purpose, forcing him into an uncomfortable position just to throw him off his game.   

 

Mercy sat on the couch in front of him, right leg crossed over her left at the knee, her back straight.  Her hands were clasped in her lap, and she looked down her nose at him, eyes roving over Genji and drinking in the sight of him.  When she did demonstrations she always dressed the part, stilettos and tight skirts and low cut blouses, hair done up in elaborate knots. 

 

Now she was wearing nothing but her underwear and some thigh high socks.  Not the thin silky fabric of tights, but soft black cotton hugging her calves and stopping a few inches above her knees.  Her bra and panties were black as well, but mismatched, both of them simple and utilitarian.  There was no lace, no frills, no ribbons or bows, and her hair fell loose around her face, a bit tangled in places.  Casual, unconcerned.  Something about the simplicity had Genji squirming.

 

She didn’t need to dress the part to have Genji right where she wanted him, and she knew it.

 

Mercy raised her right foot until her toes were under his chin, lifting it higher so she could better meet his eyes.  It felt like an inspection, the way she was letting her gaze rake over him, up and down and back again.  Genji stayed still for it through a combination of experience and sheer force of will, letting his restlessness out where she couldn’t see, hands fisting open and closed behind him, muscles of his thighs flexing and releasing.

 

It had been a long time since he’d felt this exposed, like someone could see every inch of him, inside and out.

 

Someone who could look at him, and find him wanting.

 

She lifted his chin even higher, until he had to arch his back to allow it, and Mercy smirked in response.

 

“I think you’ll do.  I was going to tell you to get hard for me, but it doesn’t seem like that’s necessary.”

 

It wasn’t.  Genji was achingly hard already, the crown of his cock peeking through his foreskin, flushed and wet.  He blushed at the amusement in her eyes, and she pressed the pads of her toes harder into his throat, pointing them and dragging them slowly over his neck, between his collar bones, down his chest.  

 

“It’s okay,” she crooned, voice saccharine and high, “I like my boys eager.”

 

Mercy’s socked foot slipped down to his cock, pressing it against his belly and rubbing gently up and down.  Genji rutted into the contact without permission, taking a couple of harsh breaths as heat swirled in his abdomen, fighting the urge to grin.

 

Being a good boy all the time was overrated, and he doubted Mercy would dole out any significant punishment in their first scene together.  Genji wasn’t above taking advantage of his Doms’ kindness, as long as it got him what he wanted in the end.  

 

That saying about it being easier to ask forgiveness than permission wasn’t  _ always  _ true, as Zenyatta had happily taught him, but Genji knew how good he sounded begging, and he was willing to take the risk.  Mercy looked entertained rather than upset, letting Genji grind himself against the sole of her foot.

 

“Go ahead then,” she said, pressing harder, and Genji obeyed without hesitation, rocking his hips forward.  Slowly, setting a lazy rhythm, unable to quell the breathy sounds he made with every few thrusts.  It was embarrassing how aroused he was already, the tip of his cock leaving a trail of slick on her sock.  The cotton wasn’t forgiving, starting to chafe fairly quickly, but Genji paid it little mind.  He’d gotten himself off on the rough leather of Jack’s boots before, he could handle the dry scrape of Mercy’s socks any day.

 

Genji huffed, increasing his pace, thighs starting to quiver.  It wasn’t so much the act itself that had him on edge already, but the fact that it was  _ Mercy,  _ that he was finally on his knees for her when he’d resigned such thoughts to fantasy until very recently.  Her other leg moved forward, prodding at his sac with the pads of her toes, digging in roughly.  Just this side of painful, and Genji groaned, head falling forward as he made a whimpering noise and gritted his teeth against the swell of sensation, hips stuttering as he fucked faster against the sole of her foot.

 

“Mercy, I- I’m-”  She cut him off, derision in her voice.  It wasn’t cruel, but Genji could sense he was being teased, the curl of her mouth and the light in her eyes further evidence of it.

 

“About to come?  About to get yourself off grinding on my toes?  Sure, go ahead.  Not how I expected this to go, exactly, but whatever you like.”

 

Genji looked up again to find Mercy wearing black latex gloves, the fingers of one wet and shining with lubricant.  She spread it around her palm, watching Genji expectantly, waiting.  

 

He was being given a choice between instant gratification or the promise of something better, with one clearly being right and the other wrong, but Mercy wasn’t going to stop him either way.  

 

Genji took a deep breath and stilled his hips, sitting back on his heels again, knees trying to close as his cock ached for attention.  She uncrossed her legs and spread them, toes flat on the floor, heels together, knees wide.  Mercy’s left hand slipped into her panties, and Genji stared, rapt, as her fingers worked lazily beneath the fabric.  He wanted to lean forward and nose into it, breathe in the scent of her, mouth at her through the cloth.  Wanted to take the cotton in his teeth and tug it to the side, bury his face in her sex and eat her out until she was shaking apart.

 

Wanted to taste, and touch, and show her just how good he could be for her.  

 

There was the ghost of Zenyatta’s voice in his head, like he was whispering in Genji’s ear,  _ ‘Patience, my student.’ _

 

Genji stayed in place, but kept staring at the way her fingers twisted and moved, licking his lips, breath catching.

 

“There’s my good boy, I knew you could do it.”  Mercy withdrew her hand from her panties and held it out to Genji, who was already leaning forward with his lips parted.  “Suck,” she said, and Genji did so eagerly, eyes falling closed as he sucked three of her fingers into his mouth.

 

He groaned around them, working his tongue over each digit in turn, desperate for the taste of her.  Genji kept licking at them long after they were clean, and she let him, making no move to withdraw them.

 

“Are you good with your mouth Genji?” Mercy asked, and Genji nodded without letting go of her fingers, looking up at her from under his lashes.  He wasn’t sure if a nod was sufficient, but he didn’t want to pull away to answer, and she seemed satisfied enough with the response.  “I don’t know if I believe you,” she said, and he hadn’t noticed her moving, but suddenly her free hand closed around his cock, stroking slowly, thumb circling the head.  Genji made a broken noise in the back of his throat, pushing forward into her grasp.  “If you do well maybe I’ll let you show me next time.  Would you like that?”

 

Genji nodded again, humming out an affirmative, chest heaving as he tried not to think about just how desperately he wanted shove his face between Mercy’s thighs.

 

Tried not to think about the way his heart fluttered in his chest when she said  _ next time. _

 

About how vulnerable he felt, his blatant need obvious on his face as he fucked into her fist and whined.

 

Mercy worked him hard and fast, jerking him off with brutal efficiency as she rubbed at his tongue with her fingers, until there was moisture leaking from the corner of his mouth and dripping down his chin.  It wasn’t long before he was nearing the edge of climax, eyes locked on Mercy’s, trying to convey to her just how close he was with the panicked look on his face and a high pitched mewling sound.  He needed permission, needed to be a good boy, but didn’t want to let go of her fingers until she made him.  Her brows furrowed at the noise, a put upon expression of sympathy, lips pursed.

 

“Oh, are you about to come?”  Genji nodded frantically, ready to crest, to let the waves of bliss take him over into orgasm.

 

Then Mercy let go of him, pulling her fingers out of his mouth and sitting up straighter.  Genji  _ keened,  _ hips writhing in place, thighs quaking.  She looked at him and laughed, reaching out to stroke his hair out of his face, and Genji shoved shamelessly into her touch.

 

“You are  _ precious,  _ look at that face.  God, I want to keep you on edge until you’re shaking with it, crying and begging in that sweet little voice.”  She tangled her fingers in his hair again and again, petting, tugging gently, her other hand cupping his cheek.  “But not today, hmm?  No tears in our first scene.  Jackson would give me that look of his, like he can’t decide if he’s jealous of  _ me  _ or  _ you, _ and Gabriel would be insufferable when you got home, hovering and trying to pretend he wasn’t worried.”  Genji laughed, a watery, strained sound, and Mercy leaned down to kiss his forehead, voice whisper soft against his skin.  “Be a good boy.  Tell me what you want.”

 

Genji heaved a rough breath, nuzzling his face into the swell of Mercy’s chest, open mouthed and needy.

 

“I want to come.  Please, Mercy.”

 

Mercy’s hand closed into a fist in his hair, and she tugged Genji’s head backwards until she could see his face, his flushed cheek still pressed to her breasts.  Watching.

 

Waiting for him to fall apart.

 

Then her free hand snaked in between them, palm wrapped around Genji’s cock, wet and tight and hot.  The angle was awkward, Genji’s back bowing, all of him off balance as he leaned into her.  His knees hurt, and his spine arched, and the leather cuffs on his thighs bit in harshly as he fought uselessly to bring them together.  It was rough, and graceless, and he was going to be sore.

 

It was perfect, and Mercy cooed praises at him as he came over her fingers, jerking out his orgasm in stuttering bursts.  

 

“There you are, that’s it, precious, that’s good,” she said, working him through it until he was twitching and panting for breath.  

 

Once upon a time he would have pulled away from the contact, too sensitive from his climax, tender and overstimulated in its wake.  Now he just shivered and made pitiful little noises until Mercy finally took pity on him and let go, the sheath of her palm vanishing from his softening arousal.  Something slick and warm pressed at his mouth.  Her gloves, and he opened his lips automatically, the taste of come familiar on his tongue.  He laved at it without prompting, licking her hand clean again, and Mercy made a pleased sound, kissing his hair, fingers scratching through the strands.

 

“There’s my good boy, clean up your mess, just like that.”

 

Genji hummed in answer, licking until there was nothing but smooth latex under his tongue, no trace of himself.  Then he sucked two of her fingers into his mouth and kept them there, head resting on Mercy’s chest, eyes half lidded, body lax in the afterglow.  She guided him down until he was lying in her lap instead, head pillowed on her thighs, still suckling absently on her fingers.  His hands were limp in the cuffs, the tension drained from his body, all of him loose and relaxed.  

 

Tied up and mouth full, Genji could do no wrong, and he floated there in the haze of it, weightless.

 

A few minutes passed in silence, Mercy petting his hair, sleep threatening to take him, but he didn’t mind.  He’d slept in worse places, in worse positions.  It was fine.

 

“I can undo your cuffs, but I need my fingers back for that,”  Mercy said, and Genji made a noise of disagreement, sucking them further into his mouth and shaking his head as his eyes fell closed.  She huffed a laugh, and he could hear the smile in her voice.  “Okay, then.”

 

She had to wait until he fell asleep to slip her fingers out of his mouth and release his wrists and thighs, and even then he whined, unhappy to let them go.

 

Jack came to get him eventually, covering him with a blanket and picking him up bridal style to carry out the back.  Angela kissed Genji on the cheek, following her mouth with her hand, the touch  lingering over his jaw.  He blinked his lids open, smiling at her, eyes alight with affection.

 

“Sweet dreams, precious.  I’ll see you next time,” she said, and Genji turned his face into her hand, kissing her palm.

 

“Dream of me,” he murmured into her skin, already drifting again as Jack carried him away, and Angela went home, and dreamed of dragons.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is such a niche piece, genreaper76 with gency and some bdsm and feet and jfc please tell me if you liked it because there's an audience of like twelve people and I would love to hear from you.

**Author's Note:**

> Give me some love my dudes.


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